


Fool's Luck

by anysin



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dark Grunkle Ford, Dubious Consent, Gnomes can't be trusted, Humiliation, M/M, Sex Pollen, Weed turns out to be sex pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 21:29:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14656607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anysin/pseuds/anysin
Summary: All Stan wanted to do was smoke weed in peace, but Ford has to come to lecture him.





	Fool's Luck

Stan should have known that the moment he tries to do something nice for himself alone, everything goes to hell.

“Fucking gnomes,” he mumbles to himself, shoving his boxers down again so he can grab his cock.

All he had wanted was some weed, so he could spend one night just relaxing and forgetting all about his problems. But, he hadn’t wanted to pay much for it, so he had gone for the cheap stuff that the creatures of the forest sold to humans. Except either he had been tricked or he had received the wrong stuff, because instead of getting high, he’s been having non-stop hard-ons. Something he might have appreciated as a young man, but that only makes him groan now.

He sighs as he starts to work on himself again, yanking impatiently on his cock. Good things kids never come bothering him to his room, and nobody else is around anyway now that the Shack is closed. He can wait or the effects to just die out-

-except of course Ford decides to barge into the room them, because Ford has no manners and he seems to be pissed off about something anyway. Stan swallows down a surprised scream, slapping his free hand over his mouth; Ford’s eyes widen when he realizes what he has interrupted. He doesn’t, however, leave the room; he closes the door instead, locking it before turning to Stan again.

“What are you thinking, pleasuring yourself when the door is open?” Ford hisses to him, setting his hands on his hips like some angry wife. “What if the kids had come in? They don’t need to see this!”

For a moment, all Stan can feel is shame; he looks away from Ford, feeling his brother’s eyes drill holes into him. But it doesn’t take long for him to get angry again, and he whips his head around to face Ford again as he snaps:

“And what are you doing barging into people’s rooms without knocking? I could have just been changing my clothes or something!” Stan’s temper is about to boil over when Ford’s eyes tilt down instead of meeting Stan’s own, but he soon realizes that Ford is looking down for a reason: Stan’s hand is still between his legs, where his cock stands at half-mast, leaking from the tip.

His hand is also still moving, pumping his cock with increasing vigor.

“Stanley!”

“Look, it’s some kind of sex thing, okay? I can’t help it!” And indeed he can’t; it’s like the pause in jacking off has made him all the more aroused, all the more desperate for touch. Stan closes his eyes, shifting over to sit on the other edge of the bed, hiding himself from Ford again. Maybe he can focus on arguing with Ford better once his cock is done burning up between his legs, or maybe Ford will be a sane person and actually fuck off for the rest of the night.

Of course, Ford is not sane.

“Let me see,” he says, and his voice is coming from too close. Stan’s eyes snap open; Ford has walked around the bed and is now kneeling down at Stan’s feet, hands hovering over Stan’s knees as he prepares to push them apart. Stan is so surprised that he actually allows that to happen, turning a touch more crimson in the face as Ford takes a good look at his naked groin.

“Don’t stare,” he mutters, meek. Not only does Ford not listen, but he decides to do something much worse; he reaches out and peels Stan’s fingers off his cock, pushing Stan’s hand away so he can get an unobstructed view of Stan’s cock. Stan squirms when he feels Ford’s eyes on his dick; the stupid, brainless thing is jerking steadily, pre-come dripping out with every twitch. As if it’s not his brother who is looking at him. As if it’s specifically his brother who is looking at him.

He closes his eyes again when he feels Ford’s hand wrap around his dick, six fingers dragging along the swollen length in a slow, loose stroke.

“You always have to be irresponsible, don’t you?” Ford asks, his voice almost fond.

Stan just moans. It’s been ages since someone else has touched him, and Ford- they used to do this together when younger, give each other hand-jobs, but their sexual experiments had never gone further than that. This probably won’t either, but the fact something like this is still happening, at their ages and with their relationship being what it is; that is just mind-blowing. Stan covers his face with his hands as Ford tightens his hold on him, his hand firm and warm around Stan’s cock.

“I love seeing you like this,” Ford says.

Ford’s other hand has been on Stan’s knee, but now it slides up his thigh, kneading it for a while before lifting away and pressing against Stan’s chest, giving him a push. Stan falls down backwards against the bed, still covering his face as Ford moves closer to him between his legs, taking his free hand down to Stan’s balls.

“You should know better than to buy anything from the gnomes,” Ford continues as he starts to fondle Stan’s sac. “They’re too stupid to be affected by sex pollen, Stanley, it just makes them feel nice and tingly. I know, I’ve done some testing.” Ford slides his thumb over Stan’s slit, rubbing down on it, and Stan clasps his hands tight around his mouth to not scream. “So they sell it to humans, who keep buying it for other reasons entirely.” Ford clicks his tongue with disapproval, and Stan can already visualize him shaking his head. “I would say it shocks me you haven’t figured this out yet, but it doesn’t really.”

“F-f-fuck you.” Although Ford is right; Stan should have figured this out ages ago and known better. How does he manage to be such a screw-up?

“It’s a miracle you could ever figure things out with the portal.” Stan whines deep in his throat when he feels Ford’s mouth inch near to his cock, so warm even from the distance. “Let’s face it: you’re just a lucky fool.”

Ford takes him into his mouth after that, sealing his lips tight around Stan’s cock as it starts to spasm. He keeps stroking Stan’s shaft through his orgasm, squeezing Stan’s balls with his other hand; Stan cries into his hands, bucking against Ford’s tight grip.

He lies limp on the bed as Ford mouths at the head of his now soft cock, catching the trickles of come with his tongue. It’s- almost a sweet gesture, and Stan can’t stop sad, little winces from escaping his throat, nor the full whine when Ford pulls away from him.

Stan remains on the bed as Ford leaves, never telling why he had come to Stan in the first place. It doesn’t matter; whatever the reason was, it must have been as irrelevant as Stan himself is.


End file.
